


To Boldly Go

by morganoconner



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Aliens, Alternate Universe - Royalty, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Psychic Bond, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:33:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is a young prince of New Earth. To finalize a treaty between his world and the neighboring planet, he finds himself being married off to one of the princes of Galaxus.</p><p>Prince Castiel turns out to be nothing like he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Boldly Go

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [](http://salt_burn_porn.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://salt_burn_porn.livejournal.com/)**salt_burn_porn** challenge, for the prompt _heavy is the head that wears the crown_.
> 
> I don't even know. I'm so sorry.

Sam has been waiting a long time to turn eighteen, to finally be able to leave his home and his life and his responsibilities and carve a place out for himself somewhere out there in the great big wide world.

But this is not what he had in mind, and he wants to fight it. He wants to defy his father and run away and pretend he's not a prince of New Earth, pretend he doesn't have this weight on his shoulders, this sense of duty the king has all but beaten into him since infancy.

But there's no getting around it. A treaty with the neighboring world of Galaxus is too important, and he knows it. He knows it, his big brother Dean knows it, and his father definitely knows it. The very moment an agreement is reached, there are suddenly guards stationed to watch Sam's every move. Like his father thinks he _will_ run, like he thinks Sam would risk his home, his _world_ , being forced to go to war because he couldn't deal.

Well, John Winchester has never thought very highly of his second son. It's not like it comes as a surprise anymore.

Still, when the shuttle comes and Sam takes a last look around his home, when Dean hugs him so hard he can't breathe, when his friends gather to wave him off and wish him well, Sam can't help but think longingly of the plans he'd had. He can't stop himself from wishing…

New Earth falls away in a green-blue-white swirl until it's nothing but a small marble in the window, and Sam closes his eyes to block it out and braces himself for whatever might be waiting for him on his new home.

~

The Galaxian king and queen have many children of varying sizes and shapes and colors, and Sam meets them all feeling as if he's in a dream. From the time he's presented to them to the end of the feast celebrating his arrival is a blur. Sam is far too focused on what's missing: the youngest son of the royal court, the one Sam has been promised to. Keeping all the other names and faces straight feels impossible when he's imagining the face of the one he's going to be bound to for the rest of his life.

He does note how alike these people are to the humans of his own world. He's sure there must be differences, but on the outside, aside from a few who have very strange coloring or unnaturally wide eyes or ears that triangle up into gentle points or maybe an extra finger here and there, it's hard to notice many differences beneath their richly-colored robes and capes and gowns. He isn't sure what he expected, but he finds himself comforted by the familiarity.

They speak to him in the language of the traders, a language he is well familiar with, and they don't laugh at him the few times he slips up and says something in his own native tongue. He finds it easy to slip into the familiar role of his status, making small-talk he barely remembers moments later and trying to leave them with the impression that they haven't made a mistake by forming the treaty with his father.

By the time he's shown to his suite of rooms, he's exhausted and stumbling, and he just wants to sleep and forget who and where he is and why, just for a little while, but he knows his intended will be waiting for him inside. After the guide leaves him, he has to take three deep breaths before he can convince himself to open the door.

The front room is nearly bare – ivory walls and ceiling match the carpeted ivory floor, and there are doors on either side of the room that blend almost seamlessly into the walls. There are no decorations to speak of except for a tall potted tree with large, royal purple leaves that sits in the far left corner.

In the very center of the room, the Galaxian prince kneels, head bowed, hands folded together in his lap. He has a head of dark hair and pale skin, and like some of his siblings, his ears are just slightly pointed instead of round like a human's. He's shirtless, wearing loose pants made of some sort of fabric that appears light and airy but comfortable. Around his middle is a strange belt, a few shades darker than his flesh. It starts at his waist and winds around him several times like a vine. He breathes deeply and evenly, and doesn't make a single sound.

Sam is suddenly, unreasonably terrified.

The door shuts behind him before he can dash back out into the corridor, locking with an unmistakable _snick_. The other prince doesn't even twitch.

There's clearly no alternative. Sam takes another fortifying breath and steps further into the room. Before he can talk himself out of it, he kneels down in front of his companion, who finally raises his gaze for the first time. Sam is met with eyes so blue they must be able to see right through into his soul, and he has to swallow at the intensity there.

"You are Sam Winchester?" the man before him asks, tilting his head just slightly as he appraises Sam. His voice is deep, deeper than his age and appearance would suggest. He's only a few years older than Sam, but his demeanor speaks of something that seems ancient.

Sam can only nod, his heart in his throat.

He receives a small smile in return. It feels like a blessing. "I am called Castiel. It is very nice to meet you, in spite of the unusual circumstances."

"You too," Sam manages to force past a tongue that feels too big and awkward in his mouth. "I…I don't know how…"

"Take my hands," Castiel instructs, holding his own out. When Sam hesitates, he gives that same small smile again. "I promise I won't hurt you, Sam."

Sam scoots forward a few inches and places his hands slowly in Castiel's. The skin is warm and dry and comforting in a way Sam can't explain, and Castiel squeezes Sam's hands softly.

"There are no ceremonies of bonding here like the ones performed on your world," Castiel says softly. "To bond is to be linked in mind and heart. It is a private thing between partners. Later, it will be verified by a healer of my people for the purpose of the treaty, but it is between only us. Do you understand?"

"I think so," Sam says, although he really isn't sure.

"If we are not compatible, the bond will fail," Castiel continues. "If it succeeds, we will be required to consummate it immediately. A physical bond to ground the mental bond. Do you understand this as well?"

Sam can't help the way his face flushes, but he manages another nod. "Yes," he chokes.

Castiel watches him for a long moment. "All right," he finally says. "Then close your eyes, Sam."

Almost the moment Sam follows the instruction, he can feel… _something_. Something that tickles at the edge of his consciousness like a feather. It feels soft, and hopeful, and he opens himself to it as much as he can. It slips deeper, and in his mind's eye, he sees _blue_ , the same blue as Castiel's eyes, and he imagines he can hear the prince whispering to him. _Stay calm, Sam. We can do this._

He can feel Castiel's long-held desire for one of the sacred bonds of his people, and he can feel the way he longs to do the right thing for his home by making this work between them. Sam wonders what Castiel feels from him in return, and Castiel caresses the thought like a reassurance.

The whole thing is intimate in a way Sam's never experienced, never thought he _could_ experience, and although only moments have passed, it feels like a lifetime. It feels like he already knows Castiel in a way no one else does or can.

Something flashes behind his closed eyes, and he gasps at the sharp tug of sensation in his chest, the bond that snaps into place between them, joining them together for life. It isn't anything at all like Sam expected, it's so _warm_.

Castiel gasps; it sounds loud in the stillness of the room. And then there's a strange sensation, something wrapping around behind Sam's back. Before he can so much as open his eyes or ask a question, it tugs, and he falls forward, all but straight into Castiel's lap; Castiel who is still holding Sam's hands, Castiel who is _kissing_ him now, and Sam makes a startled little sound as he's tugged even closer.

"Oh - !" he starts to exclaim, but Castiel swallows the sound even as it turns into a moan. Sam is straddling Castiel's legs now, whatever is wrapped around him keeping him firmly held against Castiel, and Castiel meanwhile tugs his hands free so he can wind his arms loosely around Sam's neck.

_Is this all right?_

Sam hears the question like a whisper across his mind, tries to answer the same way because right now Castiel's mouth is doing amazing things against his own, and Sam can't even imagine trying to stop him. _Yes,_ he thinks as hard as he can. _Yes, but what –_

Before he can finish the question he feels something separate from what's holding him in place creep to the hem of his finely-tailored shirt and underneath, trailing up the length of his spine as far as it can without being interrupted by its partner. He shudders, his eyes flying open as electricity sparks beneath his skin. "Oh, God," he gets out, and Castiel takes the opportunity to bury his face against Sam's neck, nipping gently.

"I'm sorry," Castiel whispers. "It's harder to control like this, I can't, I won't hurt you, just please, please –"

It takes Sam a long moment to understand, long enough that the curious thing against his spine and the other still wrapped around his back manage to get the ties of his shirt undone and have him half out of it before he realizes what they are, where they're coming from.

He stares down at the writhing, long line of flesh between them, a shocked sort of curiosity making him want to reach out and touch even as the touch of the other is still sparking all sorts of sensations throughout his body. It looks like a _tentacle_ of some sort, and he realizes that what he'd mistaken as a belt wrapped around Castiel had in fact been living flesh. Flesh that now moves toward him, trailing over his skin and leaving desire like lightning in its wake so that all he can do is throw his head back and moan.

A third comes out of nowhere to finish the removal of his shirt, tossing it to the side as a fourth creeps out from behind Castiel and begins to work at his belt.

"Oh…oh, what –" Sam can't seem to form words coherently anymore, light flashing behind his eyes at the double hit of Castiel's mental caress and the touch of those strange, amazing _things_. He doesn't even realize that Castiel is maneuvering him to the floor until he feels the incredible plushness of the carpet at his back and Castiel is bent half over him, lifting Sam's legs so his pants can be stripped off and away as well. He thinks maybe Castiel's pants follow suit, but he's having trouble focusing against the multitude sensations crowding him already.

"Sam," Castiel breathes, lowering himself down so he can kiss Sam again, licking into his mouth as the tentacles begin to greedily move up and down Sam's legs, touching every bit of flesh that they can. _Sam, please, please tell me this is all right, I need, I need –_

"Yes," Sam gasps, feeling one of the things against his inner thigh, creeping closer, closer… "Anything!"

It needs no more permission than that, darting under and entering him in one smooth stroke, making him cry out and buck up against Castiel.

It should hurt, he thinks; even if it's not quite the width of his finger, it's still dry flesh, but it feels curiously slippery as it slides out and in again. He has so many questions, so many things that dart around his head like fireflies, but it's so hard to think, and he can feel a second tentacle nudging at his entrance already even as Castiel shudders against him, clutching him close. Sam spreads his legs wider, an invitation that is readily accepted. "Castiel, oh, God, Cas…" _More, I need more, I need all of you,_ Sam begs.

It's too fast, it should be much too fast, and Sam is still a virgin in the ways that matter here, but the only pain he feels with the third is equally pleasurable, and they keep jabbing in and out in sequence, constantly nudging that place inside him that makes him gasp and sob and _crave_ with a fierce kind of desperation.

The fourth tentacle, the last, peeks out at Sam from over Castiel's shoulder, and then curves down to trail through his hair, around his ear, down the side of his neck and back up to dip into his mouth just long enough for him to get a taste. Bliss ignites within Sam from wherever it touches, and he almost whites out. The ones inside him stop thrusting and begin instead to spread him, wider and wider, and Sam knows what's coming, he knows and he should be scared but he just _isn't_.

"Please, Castiel, do it," he says, staring up into Castiel's wide eyes, trying to convey how much he wants, _needs_ to have this. The bond between them, new and aching and deep, flares, making Sam's heart skip a beat or three. He may even lose a few seconds of time, because suddenly Castiel is right against him, lining himself up with the hole his tentacle helpers have spread so perfectly for him.

"Are you sure?" Castiel asks, looking like it's taking all of his willpower to do so.

 _Now,_ is the only word Sam can form in reply. _Now now now nownownownow!_

Castiel thrusts in all at once, knocking the breath from Sam's lungs.

"Castiel!" he cries, wrapping his legs around Castiel's back, hands clutching at his shoulders. His heel nudges against the cluster at the base of Castiel's spine, the place the tentacles sprout from, and he laughs breathlessly even as he thrusts down on Castiel's cock. One by one the tentacles slide out, leaving Castiel to slam into Sam all on his own.

Free now, the tentacles encircle Sam's legs and lift them, spreading him wider than he thought it possible to be. Castiel keeps thrusting, breathing Sam's name with every shove until Sam is sobbing, his head thrashing back and forth against the carpet, fingers digging grooves into Castiel's back.

 _Come, Sam,_ Castiel demands, too breathless to say the words aloud. _Come now!_

Sam does, with a scream he imagines can be heard throughout the palace. He's silenced by the fourth tentacle darting back into his mouth, and he sucks hard on it on instinct, tears of pleasure leaking from his eyes as Castiel cries out and shoves harder, once, twice, a third time. The other three tentacles go wild, darting all over Sam's body, one wrapping around his neck and squeezing just gently enough for him to be aware of, but not enough to choke him. The one in his mouth writhes and undulates, and against him, Castiel shudders. Warmth spreads inside Sam as Castiel comes with a jerky cry.

After, he collapses, boneless, and the tentacles slither to the ground beside him, nudging in close against Sam's sides while Castiel pants against his neck.

"So, ah." Sam grins, ducking his head to nose Castiel into looking up at him with those dazed blue eyes. This arrangement is suddenly seeming like a far nicer thing than he could ever have imagined. "I hope this means we're compatible?"

Castiel blinks, the bond giving a soft thrum within Sam's heart, and then his own lips curl into a bright, beautiful smile.


End file.
